<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Bad decisions make good stories. by venom_for_free</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23497222">Bad decisions make good stories.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/venom_for_free/pseuds/venom_for_free'>venom_for_free</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bad decisions [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mila gives bad advice, Mila is also a terrible friend, One Shot, Otabek is a cop, Romance, Yuri is a little desperate, but in the end it works for them</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:09:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,572</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23497222</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/venom_for_free/pseuds/venom_for_free</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Horse shit!" Mila cursed and stopped the car, watching the second one pull up directly behind her. "Watch, Yura. Today you will learn." Instead of searching for her license, she pushed up her hair and deftly grabbed into her shirt. She dragged up the edges of her bra, so they would show above the low cut shirt she was wearing and—for good measure—tugged the shirt further down. Her lips worked against one another before she licked over them, making them red and swollen, glistening with saliva. </p><p>Or: Mila teaches Yuri how to flirt his way out of a ticket and Otabek is the poor cop he tests his new "skill" on.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mila Babicheva &amp; Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bad decisions [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1695892</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>105</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bad decisions make good stories.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsagiStilinski/gifts">AsagiStilinski</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to Asagi for coming up with endless, wild plot bunnies that are sometimes just too fun not to write.<br/>Thanks to Taedae for being the most reliable, quick, clever and bullshit-enduring editor I could EVER ask for.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Horse shit!" Mila cursed and stopped the car, watching the second one pull up directly behind her. "Watch, Yura. Today you will learn." Instead of searching for her license, she pushed up her hair and deftly grabbed into her shirt. She dragged up the edges of her bra, so they would show above the low cut shirt she was wearing and—for good measure—tugged the shirt further down. Her lips worked against one another before she licked over them, making them red and swollen, glistening with saliva. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All that happened within five seconds and was done just before the officer knocked on their window. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mila rolled it down, overemphasizing the pumping movement when all she had to do was to crank it down. She draped herself over the edge of the window, tits almost falling out of their elevated, useless cages. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri stared open-mouthed. Mila was a very sensual person, yes, but seeing her use her sexuality as a weapon was almost frightening. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hiiii, officer!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fuck him. Why did she sound like a little girl? Who would want to fuck a little— </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hello, darling. Do you know why I had to … pull you over?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Really? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Really? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuri shook his head, disgusted with his own sex. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Officer, I don't mind being pulled over by you </span>
  <em>
    <span>any day.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Did you want to come and say hi? Meet me? So you could ask me out for dinner? It doesn't have to be dinner, officer." Her voice dropped, and Mila squirmed in the window, panting a little. "Sorry, it's really, really hot in here. Do you mind if I get out and take off my jacket? You could check if I'm armed. Of course I'm not, but … in case you want to be super sure, mister officer …" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one would be that stupid. Fucking no one. Yuri thought he saw a wedding band on the officer's finger. Mila was going to jail. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mila was not going to jail. Instead, she was bent over the hood, legs spread as the officer—who could have been her father—patted down both of her long, miniskirt clad legs. She winked at Yuri through the windscreen and wiggled her ass. "See, officer. I told you I'm a very, very good girl." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Had he just vomited into his own mouth a little? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Mila straightened up and smiled wide. "See? There's no problem, right?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No problem at all, ma'am." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri couldn't believe it. He gawked at the redhead when she climbed back in. "What the fuck was that?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That was a lesson on how to avoid a speeding ticket. If you are a woman." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"This threw back feminism approximately a hundred years." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I disagree. It's not my fault men are really just a bunch of soaked oatmeal blobs pressed into a uniform. No spine, no brain." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm a man, too." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're gay. You don't count." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"THAT threw back the LGBTQ+ rights movement a hundred years." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, stop whining." She started the car again, righting her outfit in the process. "If he had one more brain cell, you'd be walking home." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What if he had put his hand under your skirt?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's my third offense. He could have checked if I'm wearing panties for all I care." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mila!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She grinned at him, no shame on her face whatsoever. "A girl gotta do what a girl gotta do." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri grumbled, crossed his arms and stared out the window. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You have to drive." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What?" Yuri looked up from his mocktail, eyebrows drawn together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're not drinking. You drive." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Shit, that's the first responsible thing I ever heard from your mouth." He checked Mila, head to toe. She looked okay but slightly drunk. Not driving was smart. "I don't have my license, though. At least, not with me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mila stared at him. "Why?!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Who brings their license when they go out and don't plan to drive home?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Everyone who wants to make sure they get in?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri grinned and rolled his shoulders. "I know most of the bouncers around the scene. They know for a fact that I'm legal." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ew, Plisetsky."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ew, yourself." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both grinned and, after paying, stumbled into the cold night air. Mila fell into the passenger seat and handed him the keys. Yuri took them and started her ugly, old car with the weird-ass pink plush dice hanging from the mirror. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"If we get in trouble, you better brandish your weapons." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mila giggled and popped her bubblegum. "I want to see you getting us out of a ticket." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No way. I'm a boy, in case you didn't realize, you fucking hag." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You don't look the part in the right light." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Fuck you." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And as if to prove a point, Yuri started the car and drove off too quickly. Mila wouldn't stop babbling about how cute he looked with his little frown and the long blond hair. She leaned against his shoulder and smirked. "Dancing with you is always easy because </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> never get hard from it …" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That doesn't stop you from abandoning me half of the nights to rub up to some random ass beefcake and—oh shit." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was that a red light? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri saw the flashing lights on the car behind him, paired with the shriek of a siren, just for a second to warn them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"FUCK." Yuri pulled over and killed the engine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Quick!" Mila hissed. "Let's switch. I'll get us out of this!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"YOU'RE DRUNK, YOU FUCKING KUMQUAT." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a knock on his window. Yuri smiled and looked directly into the eyes of the most beautiful man he had ever seen. Fuck him. He was great at flirting. But not with attractive people. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri tried to look enticing, sure that it was more of a grimace instead, and rolled down the window. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hello, officer~." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"License and papers." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri tugged down his shirt, even though he didn't know why. Not like he had cleavage to show off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The officer frowned at him. "License and papers, sir." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh!" Mila exclaimed from the passenger side. "He's got good eyesight! Sir? Mister officer, sir? What's your name?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri smacked her thigh. He had this. No need for her to interfere. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Altin. Why? Is there a problem you want to report?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Only that you're far too hot! You're a distraction for every driver, sir." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man cleared his throat. He blushed a little, looking quite uncomfortable. It caused Mila to hit Yuri's leg. "Oh my God, he's gay. I bet he's gay, Yura! This is on you!" Then, she pulled the lever of her seat and slowly tilted it back until she was out of view. Holy fucking shit. Yuri had underestimated how drunk Mila was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri turned back around, his grin now forced </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>embarrassed. "I'm so sorry about my friend. She's drunk. It's her car, though, so she has the papers." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mila dug them out and handed them over dutifully, not without winking at Yuri and giving him a thumbs up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What the fuck, Bavicheva?" He offered the papers to officer Altin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"License?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri bit his lips. "I kind of … might have … forgotten then … at home? Because …" then he remembered he wanted to flirt and leaned out of the window, which only resulted in him struggling to breathe and looking dumb </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>uncomfortable. "You see, officer, I didn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>plan</span>
  </em>
  <span> to drive, but I was responsible and took over for my friend here …" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And that red light?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He swallowed. "Uuuhmmm … my friend distrac—I mean—WHAT RED LIGHT?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The officer sighed. "Step out of the car. I'll need you to blow into a breathalyzer for me." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri climbed out of the car. God damn it. Why did he have to be so hot? "You … won't need to analyze my breath. I can reassure you, I smell just fine. And I know how to blow." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>FUCK. Calling him clumsy was a compliment. Yuri blushed, embarrassed by his own words. What the fuck had Mila done to him? Now he would get charged for the red light </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>for assaulting an officer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What's your name?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yuri Plisetsky." He sounded defeated, leaning against the hood. Yuri offered the rest of his personal data, then blinked up at the beautiful man through his lashes. "Now that you know where I live … maybe you could come over sometime?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least the police officer was blushing, too. "Mister … Plisetsky. Are you flirting with me to evade a ticket?!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri sighed. He was trapped, why play pretend. He asked against all hope, "Is it working?" But the officer shook his head and handed him a slip of paper, giving him a very stern verbal warning in addition. Yuri slipped back into the car and banged his head against the headrest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mila tilted her seat back up. "Did it work?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What the fuck do you think?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighed, looking just as defeated as Yuri felt. "I'm sorry. How much do you have to pay?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked down on the paper slip. "FUCK! THAT'S A LOT OF MONEY?! I DON'T HAVE THAT MONEY?! WHAT THE FUCK?! FOR ONE RED LIGHT?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mila snickered. "You're pretty, but you're dense, Plisetsky. That's not a fine. That's a phone number." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuri pressed the paper slip to his chest. Holy fuck. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Holy fuck. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Next to him, Mila smirked. "Will you call?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course he would call, Yuri explained to her. Altin had his contact information. What if he rethought his decision not to get Yuri in trouble? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least … that was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>official </span>
  </em>
  <span>reason. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading, and I would love to hear from you!<br/>I'm also on<br/>tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free<br/>instagram: https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/<br/>or twitter: https://twitter.com/venom_for_free</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>